Something is following me. I think it's Melanie. I hope it's Melanie.
I fell into a fitful sleep last night; I was woken by the sound of quiet laughter. I don't know what time it happened, but it was still dark. I sat up and crawled from my tent. I was disoriented, and it was hard for me to tell which direction the sound was coming from. I stood and turned around, but I couldn't pinpoint it.
The laughter was close, and had a hysterical quality, as though the person making it had just been told some hideous truth, and their mind was in the process of cracking. I stood there listening as the laughter faded away.
When I set off in the morning, I found footprints around the camp. In the quiet, as I travelled, I kept hearing faint sounds: rustling leaves, crackling sticks, and once, a soft giggling that chilled me.
I stopped as it was getting dark, and doubled back on myself a small distance.